


Stop Pretending

by imaginedestiel



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Kylo has a lot of real feelings, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, kylo-centric, there's an extra meme in there for ya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedestiel/pseuds/imaginedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the "Stop telling everyone I'm dead" meme, Hux plays a prank on Kylo after the events of The Force Awakens. Kylo doesn't take it very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Pretending

Kylo awoke in the medcenter, a heavy sheet laid across his lengthy body. Slowly, his fingers reached to touch his eye, but he found the scratchy material of a bandage strapped to it. A barrage of memories assaulted his mind, and Kylo clutched his head, trying to slow them down. First, there was his father. He pushed it aside quickly as pain swelled within him. Then, there was an explosion, and… The girl. _Rey_. His nerves hissed at the thought of her lightsaber striking him, the lightsaber that was rightfully his. Never mind recovering, Kylo wanted it back, and he wanted it now.

As Kylo waged battle against the bed sheets and the searing pain in his abdomen, two medical droids and General Hux walked through the sliding glass doors. Hux’ face was typically solemn. He strode towards Kylo, his shoulders broadened by perfect posture and hands clasped behind his back. Hux didn’t look Kylo in the eye, but rather kept his gaze fixedly at Kylo’s feet, still trapped underneath the pure white sheet. Then he murmured, “Time of death?”

“Zero four twenty-four hours, sir,” the droid nearest him chirped back.

Kylo stared at the two of them, aghast, while the other droid powered down the machines previously used to keep him alive. Hux blinked twice and turned his back to the man on his death bed, shoulders stiffening the way they did when the General was hiding some emotion that would ruin his pristine image. Then Kylo laughed.

“This is a joke, isn’t it, Hux?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

General Hux straightened himself out and placed a hand on the first droid. “That will be all,” he said, and walked towards the doors.

Kylo felt a twinge of dread, but it simply could not be. Hux was playing with him. “Hux!” he called. Hux kept walking. “Hux!”

The droids wheeled out of the sickroom and left Kylo in darkness.

* * *

Kylo opened his eyes again. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but now he had another problem. He was absolutely freezing.

He was underneath that blasted oversized sheet again, but this time no cot was there for his comfort. Kylo was on the cold, unforgiving metal of a table in what he could only assume was a morgue. _Ghosts don’t feel_ , he told himself. He looked at the blue-grey of his surroundings, not finding it familiar, but then again, he didn’t spend any time looking after the dead.

Kylo threw the sheet off himself and started for the exit when he noticed the droids hadn’t left him any clothes—only the bandages taped to his body. “I’m going to kill him,” Kylo said to himself. He did look garish like this, with fading blood stains a stark contrast to his pale skin. Maybe he’d go scare the troops. But a shiver shook Kylo’s spine and he decided he’d rather find some clothing, and then find Hux.

He rifled through the cupboards of the morgue but found only thick gloves and an apron that had been splattered with chemicals that further attacked his senses. He would have to venture outside.

Kylo stuck his head around the corner of the door and peeked into the hallway. It was empty aside from one patrolling Stormtrooper a ways down from Kylo.

“Trooper!” Kylo yelled in as hushed a tone as he could manage. He imagined that this particular Stormtrooper probably wouldn’t recognize him without the mask, and he was thankful for that. The armor-clad man made no move to quicken his pace or indicate that he had heard, however. “Pssst,” Kylo called, a small part of him remembering playing as a child in a similar way, sharing secrets with something as easy as a whisper. He squashed it down.

The footsteps of the Stormtrooper grew louder as he approached, yet he paid Kylo no mind as orders were given to him to retrieve his commander’s clothes. The soldier marched on as rage bubbled inside Kylo.

Left with no other choice, Kylo stomped out into the open, his good eye scanning for either captain’s quarters or an indicator of his location. When he found none, his hands reached for the red lightsaber that wasn’t at his belt anymore. He groaned in frustration he couldn’t release. Then, as he was about to try heading in the other direction, an entire squad of Stormtroopers rounded the corner.

Kylo turned scarlet from head to toe. He braced himself against the railing and hid his face in his hand, black hair further serving to shield his face as it fell forward. But not a single remark of shock or entertainment arose, and these troopers marched on as well.

_They didn’t…see me?_

Then Kylo Ren started to seriously consider the possibility of being a Force ghost.

* * *

He knew Supreme Leader Snoke had kept things from him. There was great power in knowledge of the Dark Side, but Snoke’s teachings were slow, and often cruel. Kylo did not know what it took to become a Force ghost or what a Force ghost was capable of doing and feeling. No, he suspected Luke would have told him, what with his insistence on babbling about the Living Force. Luke didn’t get the chance. Regret snagged and snarled against his insides, before an overwhelming sense of jealousy took Kylo. Why had Grandfather visited Luke as a Force ghost, but not him? What was so deserving about Luke?

Kylo had snuck into a trooper’s quarters and “borrowed” black pants and a matching long-sleeved shirt, but he had no desire to wear the armor. He’d sooner wear Hux’ tighty whities. Kylo snickered at the image and continued his trek through the ship. His observations made him sure of one thing—this wasn’t the _Finalizer_.

Hushed voices tickled his senses and Kylo followed them. He saw the familiar redhead among a gaggle of Stormtroopers.

“How are the funeral preparations proceeding?” asked Hux.

“We’re behind schedule, General,” answered one.

“Should we order flowers, sir?”

“The menu needs to be chosen for the banquet in his honor,” said another.

“I have his death certificate here—”

“Is everyone invited to participate?”

Hux scowled and called for order. When all the soldiers were quiet, he calmly said, “Red roses, now. Tarsh maxers, food pearls, and air cake. It’s mandatory for everyone to attend, and please, hand that to me before you wrinkle it.” The trooper gave him Kylo’s death certificate as the others disbanded.

Hux ran rigid fingers through his hair before he smoothed it back into place and turned on his heel.

“Hux!” Kylo tried calling again. When the man didn’t respond, Kylo padded after him, missing the thud of his heavy boots. Hux led him right to his quarters, where more hullabaloo was occurring.

“General Hux, where would you like this?” a tall Stormtrooper asked, carrying a high-backed, weathered synthleather chair. Kylo recognized it. _Grandfather._

“In my room is fine.”

The trooper set it down in the corner as another filed in behind him, cradling several glowing holocrons. “And these?” came the smooth, female voice.

“On my desk,” answered Hux.

Kylo was starting to simmer. All of his special things… Then someone carrying Vader’s helmet approached Hux.

“That’s mine!” shouted Kylo. No one heard him.

Hux stroked the stubble that was starting to form on his jaw and chin. “Throw it in the incinerator.”

“Nooo!” Kylo screamed, lurching out to claim it.

“On second thought,” Hux said, taking the helmet carefully in one hand while the other held Kylo’s death certificate, “I’ll keep it.”

Kylo fell to his knees in relief, the exertion of the day’s events beginning to present itself. He breathed deeply and questioned again whether he was living or not.

The swirl of Hux’ coat caught his eye as the man disappeared into his quarters. Kylo, feeling he had nowhere else to go, followed him in.

Hux sat at his desk and turned on the low glow of his lamp. Kylo watched a few feet away as he opened the desk drawer and pulled out a pen. Hux uncapped it and brought it to the certificate, then stopped. “Ren,” he whispered.

Kylo scrambled to his side, once again on his knees, and propped himself up with an arm against the desk. “Yes?” he answered, and he swore he’d never responded to his name in Hux’ mouth like that before.

Hux frowned and scribbled his signature across the page in wet, black ink.

“Hux, I’m here,” Kylo said. Hux moved so close to Kylo that he could feel the General’s breath against the skin of his face, and then he opened a drawer next to Kylo and retrieved a synthleather bound book about the size of his hand.

Kylo pleaded, “I’m right here, Hux. Look at me!”

He wrote with a determination that showed as his features twisted. Kylo never saw him so bare-faced before. Hux’ knuckles burned white and the tip of the pen cracked under his grip. He stood swiftly. Kylo lost his balance and watched from the floor as Hux wiped at his face and strode into the ‘fresher, discarding his boots and coat along the way.

Slowly, Kylo picked himself up and closed his mouth, which had parted in disbelief. Had he witnessed…grief? He leaned over Hux’ desk and read the latest entry in the journal.

_After a crushing defeat on Starkiller Base, I gathered the survivors and flew to a nearby star system sympathetic to our cause. Among the survivors was Kylo Ren. Until now. Until now, he was fighting, and I hopeful. I still cannot wrap my head around the reality of his absence, and I fear my troops will deem me unfit for leadersh—_

The note ended there. Kylo heard Hux start the water and decided it was time to give him some privacy. He snatched up the journal and darted out the door, setting out to find a quiet place.

Kylo sat down in an alcove and brought his knees to his chest. Tenderly, he opened the journal and pinched the corners of the pages between two fingers as he turned them. Each page was dated and written in Hux' alluring, sleek script.

_Today I met a young man who went by the name "Kylo Ren"_ , one page read.

Another, _Ren shows great promise._

And the page before the last entry read, _I have high hopes for our future._

Force, his name was on every other page! How could Hux hide this from him? His mind must have been stronger and more shielded than Kylo knew. Kylo closed the journal and hugged himself, seeking some form of comfort. He would reach out to Hux again and try to garner a reaction, ghost or not.

* * *

Kylo swallowed the lump in his throat. _Maybe this isn’t such a good idea_ , he thought. But it was too late now. Hux walked through the door to his quarters, definitely needing some rest after the long military personnel meeting. Kylo was stretched out on Hux’ bed, positioned more for his own comfort than any effort to create a seductive shock. But he _had_ taken off his shirt. The snug fabric rubbed against his bandages, but surely Hux had seen him like this once in the medcenter, and well, if it was a problem Hux better speak up. Except Hux didn’t say anything. He didn’t even spare Kylo a glance or raise his sharp eyebrows in surprise.

Hux stretched, putting his arms high above his head as he yawned. Then he dressed down till only his grey underclothes were left and pulled back the covers of his bed.

Kylo made a strangled noise as Hux drew near, both in alarm and vexation. He moved over clumsily to avoid being squashed, if he was capable of being squashed in this form. Hux turned out the lights and only the faint blue of Kylo’s holocrons lit up the room.

Kylo remained still, not wanting to disturb him. If there was any truth to what he wrote… Hux shifted so he faced Kylo, his eyes closed and hand tucked under his pillow, the shadows cast across his face making him look softer, somehow. Kylo studied him for a few moments, and then his hand seemed to reach out on its own to touch Hux’ cheek—

He withdrew his hand in the next instant. Something inside him felt _warm. Kind. Light._ He supposed that fight didn’t matter as much now.

Kylo reached for him again, the pads of his fingers sweeping down the length of Hux’ jaw, then again till he touched his chin, and once more to caress his cheek and brush against his lips before Kylo let his hand fall at his side, his outstretched arm feeling heavy.

It was difficult to move now. No bed on this ship belonged to him, and he was exhausted, after all. Kylo’s eyes fell prey to the darkness just as Hux smiled.

* * *

The answer came to him in a dream. The subtle connection Hux had left as a clue to his cruel joke. But as dawn came, the vividness fled from Kylo, and he was back to his foggy existence.

He rubbed at his eye and saw Hux wasn’t next to him. He groaned and dragged himself out of bed, severely pining for a fresh set of clothes. _Hux’ wardrobe is right over there,_ Kylo thought, first chiding himself, then letting curiosity get the best of him. He opened the middle drawer first, finding soft undershirts. He put one on and smiled. It was a near perfect fit. Kylo opened the wardrobe doors and marveled at the array of military jackets. Hux would be one to make sure he looked his finest at any moment, even after experiencing defeat. Kylo was about to choose one or two to try on when his fingers grazed something like silk.

He lifted the hanger out of the wardrobe and gawked at what it held. A long, flowing cape the color of a starless sky. Hux must have been saving it for a special occasion—a promotion, perhaps, or a celebration of the end of the Republic. Kylo slipped it off the hanger and hung the thin chain around his neck, delighting in the mental image of Darth Vader. He stalked around the room and felt the cape billow behind him. Kylo wished he had someone to share it with. His eye was drawn to the journal he’d returned to Hux’ desk. Something edged at him, cold and punishing. Kylo picked up the journal and flipped to the first entry about him.

_Today I met a young man…_

_He’s ruthless and passionate…_

_A rewarding partnership…_

_Date: 04.24_

Kylo heard the mechanical beep of the medical droid resonate in his mind. _Zero four twenty-four hours, sir._

He ripped the page from its binding and crumpled it before shredding it to pieces wildly. It was all a lie! Kylo brought his fist down upon the hard metal of the desk, pain shocking its way through his wrist and up his arm, and then he went to work on the rest of the journal, tearing page after page and tossing each into the air.

“Are you wearing my cape?” came a quizzical voice.

Kylo spun around as paper fluttered to the ground at his feet. _Hux_. He charged at him, snarling, “Liar!”

Hux backed up against the wall but caught Kylo’s hands before they could bring him harm. “You may keep it,” Hux said, amusement twinkling in his eyes, “It suits you.”

“How could you?” Kylo demanded, still at full volume. “Why would you make me think…” Tears were pouring down his cheeks, and they stung horridly in the cut across his face. He wrenched himself free of Hux’ grip and tore off the bandage covering his eye, trying viciously to stop the flow of tears.

“Stop! Ren, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Hux implored.

“ _You_ hurt me!” Kylo thrust out his arm, the Force ready to bend to his will.

Hux took the hand that threatened to end him and stepped closer, curling his fingers around Kylo’s gently. “Hush, now,” he said, and cupped his other hand to Kylo’s cheek, thumb wiping away the wetness. Kylo was still as he searched Hux’ eyes for an answer. “Everything,” Hux began hesitantly, “everything in that journal is real, save the last piece you saw me write.”

“Then why—,” Kylo started, voice hitching.

“Breathe, Kylo,” urged Hux. Kylo tilted his head, confused in this change in behavior. Hux told him, “I wanted you to realize there’s more to life than what you’ve done with it thus far. I’m sorry.”

Kylo thought about the pull of the Light, and his invisible loneliness, and Hux’ words of admiration torn apart and spread around the room. “I thought…” he said, finding it difficult to take everything in.

“I know,” Hux whispered. “I was wrong to make you believe you’d died.”

Kylo leaned into his touch and nodded haltingly. “No,” he answered quietly. “No, you were right. There is more to life.” He paused. “There’s you.”

Surprised, Hux’ lips parted, and Kylo bent to meet them slowly, and ever so softly, in case Hux lacked the same commitment.

Hux tipped his chin up and tightened his grip on Kylo’s hand as they kissed. His other hand fell away from Kylo’s cheek and slipped under the man’s shirt before giving him one more warm, greedy press of lips. Kylo shivered as Hux’ fingers trailed across his chest, and Hux grinned as he found what he was searching for. He tapped the bandage lightly as he said, “I think these need to be changed again.”

“Again?” asked Kylo.

“What do you think happened as you slept in the morgue?” he retorted, some of his old snark returning.

Kylo growled in reply, but inwardly he was hotter than the sun. For Hux to have taken care of him all while pulling off his trick—it was outrageous, and Kylo was flattered in spite of himself.

Hux put his hand on Kylo’s shoulder. He said, “I’ll send someone to take care of those, and afterwards you should finish getting dressed. The banquet in your honor starts in an hour.”

“I’m keeping the cape,” tested Kylo.

“Please do.”

* * *

The great room buzzed in excitement as hundreds of Stormtroopers piled in to share in the feast. Twice as many bright red roses littered the tables, and Kylo could hardly believe his eyes. He sat with General Hux at his right and Captain Phasma at his left, and no one ignored him. Kylo cut a slice out of a food pearl and chewed it hungrily, the taste evoking a long-lost part of his youth. He’d read somewhere that his grandfather liked tarsh maxers, and that’s why Kylo ate them so often. He was just about stuffed when Hux reminded him there was cake.

“I’ll get you a slice,” Hux said, rubbing his knuckle against Kylo’s cheek briefly.

Kylo looked down, hardly containing his smile.

Next to him, Phasma giggled, and Kylo’s head snapped right back up. He’d never heard her do that before. She took a bite of her food nonchalantly.

“Captain, I had a thought,” said Kylo.

Phasma faced him. “Yes?”

“What happened to Starkiller Base?”

“A rather dramatic implosion,” she sighed. “Hux saved you and a few of your things. Did you see them?”

Kylo narrowed his eyes, suspecting Phasma was part of Hux’ grand plan, but the corner of his lip curled up anyway. “I saw them,” he admitted.

"The _Finalizer_ will likely arrive soon to pick us up," she told him. Kylo looked forward to a return to familiar environments. Hux came back with a gooey looking piece of cake and placed it between him and Kylo.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to share it,” Phasma teased, putting her elbow on the table and turning her body to watch.

Hux sat down and replied, “Why not? We shared a bed.” He winked at her.

Kylo spun from Hux to Phasma, exclaiming, “It’s not what you think!”

Phasma scooped a chunk of the cake onto her fork and guided it into Kylo’s bewildered, open mouth. “You poor thing,” she chided. “General, do you think he’s suffered head trauma? To forget a thing so quickly…”

Kylo ate it angrily and tried to explain, “We didn’t—”

Hux took Kylo’s chin between his fingers, causing Kylo to face him as he put more cake in his mouth. Kylo was tempted to spit it back in his face, but the dessert was delicious. He swallowed it as Phasma took his arm and led him to the ballroom, where music was playing at a dazzling swing, and chandeliers lit up the room in gold and red.

“Where did Hux find such a nice ship?” Kylo thought out loud.

Phasma said, “The neighboring star system saw fit to treat us like guests. For a price, of course.”

“Ah.” He admired his surroundings once more.

“And how are you healing, Kylo?” she said, putting a hand at his hip and taking the lead in their dance.

A wry smile twisted Kylo’s lips. “Splendidly, considering I woke up in the morgue yesterday. Were you in on it?”

She laughed and answered, “Yes. My troops reported you had quite the ordeal.”

Kylo flushed at the memory of streaking down the ship's halls, and suddenly he was staring at his feet.

“But hey,” Phasma said gently, placing her hand on his cheek so he looked at her, “It was worth it to see you in such good spirits, hm?”

He nodded, grateful for her friendship. Phasma spun Kylo around and let go of his hand, sending him right into Hux’ arms.

“Hi, Ren,” Hux said, almost giddy. He swiped a rose off a nearby table and buried it in Kylo’s long hair.

Kylo squinted at him. “Have you been drinking?”

“Nooo,” he answered, holding Kylo close as they swayed.

“Well, you look it,” Kylo asserted.

Hux took his head off Kylo’s shoulder to meet his eyes. “What?”

“I said, you dumb shit.”

Hux gave him a blank face for a second before bursting into laughter and kissing him.

Kylo Ren felt truly alive.


End file.
